


Little Aches

by jamiesfreckles



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Basketball, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Injuries, Stress Baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 13:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamiesfreckles/pseuds/jamiesfreckles
Summary: “It’s not like I’m going to start chopping off my limbs when he’s around to see if they grow back,” Cyrus says, waving a fork around demonstrably in The Spoon. “That’s not how soulmate stuff works, anyway."





	Little Aches

**Author's Note:**

> Um. I don't know. I just quite like/love/adore this couple? This show is doing good things, people. Minor warnings for a bit of blood, aka nosebleeds of the non-serious kind.

It starts with a paper-cut. 

Cyrus slides a book into his backpack and winces as the page slices through his finger. Blood wells up at the edge of the slit, and he makes a little outraged sound as he stuffs his finger in his mouth. There’s nothing as painful as a paper-cut or a stubbed toe, in his opinion. Sure, other things hurt worse, but with a paper-cut or a stubbed toe, you have to deal with the indignity of knowing you were defeated by a table leg or a pamphlet _on top_ of physical pain.

He’s still wrestling with his book when TJ claps him on the back as he passes, making him stumble forward and grip the picnic table for balance. TJ grins as he flips around mid-stride to watch Cyrus struggle. 

“You’re never late for class,” TJ says, teasing. He’s always teasing, but it’s not mean-spirited, so Cyrus doesn’t mind. “Something must have gone horribly wrong if you’re late for class.”

Cyrus manages to get the zip up, the book manhandled back where it belongs. TJ’s walking backwards at an annoyingly quick pace, manoeuvring easily through the little bins and various dawdling students. He doesn’t hit anyone, which is a miracle and a tad unfair, if Cyrus is honest, considering he could walk a straight line in an empty field and still stagger into several trees. 

“I’m not late, technically,” Cyrus says, not-quite hurrying to catch up. “Besides, I was dealing with a crisis, so I’m sure the world will understand.”

TJ quirks an eyebrow, amused. “What kind of crisis?”

Which is when Cyrus realises that his finger doesn’t hurt anymore. He glances at it, and the skin is clean, unhealed. But it tingles a little. 

He prods it, just once, and then stops, aware that TJ’s still watching him, waiting for an answer. 

“Huh,” Cyrus says. “The kind that seems worse than it is, apparently.”

*

They’ve never actually been hurt around each other before, that’s the thing. 

“It’s not like I’m going to start chopping off my limbs when he’s around to see if they grow back,” Cyrus says, waving a fork around demonstrably in The Spoon. Buffy isn’t really paying attention, rolling her eyes as she watches Andi bite her lip and type away at her phone. Andi very obviously isn’t paying attention.

“That’s not how soulmate stuff works, anyway,” Cyrus mutters, more to himself than anything. “You don't grow limbs back. But you do feel better. That’s the whole point. They heal you when they’re close by. And yeah, it was just a paper-cut, but that was very quick healing if it _wasn’t_ magical soulmate healing.”

He’s still grumbling when Buffy looks up sharply. “Did you say _soulmate?”_

Cyrus groans, dropping his head forward on the table. 

*

Buffy and Andi really _weren’t_ listening when he was talking about TJ earlier. Which means they don't know that he was talking about _TJ,_ specifically, and so he spends the whole weekend being bombarded with questions via messages about who his soulmate is. He doesn’t want to tell them. He knows they won’t like it, even now, after everything’s been sorted. He puts his phone face-down on the kitchen counter while he stress-bakes. 

Stress-baking treacherously betrays him, and he hisses as he shoves his hand under cold water to soothe the burn on his palm, to hopefully take the sting out of it. His muffins sit, cooling, on the rack, and Cyrus listens to his phone ping a few more times from where it’s hidden under a tea-towel.

He wonders idly if TJ would be able to heal the burn, and the thought makes his heart race. It’s not a serious burn, so it probably won’t be much more than a bit of red skin by the time he goes back to school on Monday, maybe a bit sore to touch. So it’s not like he’ll be able to tell if TJ can heal it. 

He could always text TJ. Call him, maybe. There’s no reason why TJ couldn’t come round for innocent, non-soulmate related reasons. And knowing TJ, he’d probably do it. Cyrus has been told, rather uncomfortably, by several people now, that TJ seems a lot more willing to go along with things if it’s _Cyrus_ asking. 

After the whole gun thing, and after Cyrus explained very patiently that TJ was the one to tell the police, even Andi and Buffy had to admit that it was probably because of Cyrus that TJ had listened. 

Cyrus doesn’t know how to feel about that. He thinks he helped, sure, but he also likes to think that TJ would have done the same thing regardless of whether Cyrus was there or not. He’s good. Not deep down, not under layers of scary stuff, even though Cyrus called him intimidating - he didn't really mean it like that, anyway. He’s just good. 

He also called TJ oblivious, and he thinks that’s sort of true, still. But even TJ would probably notice if Cyrus started gaping at his suddenly abruptly non-burned hand after calling him over for absolutely no reason. 

And Cyrus isn’t sure how to feel about that. 

*

Cyrus bangs his elbow on the door-frame as he walks into class, and it throbs persistently up until class ends, when TJ finds him in the corridor and bumps into him, all friendly smiles and an invitation to hang out later. 

“You’re being weird.” TJ says bluntly, not quite worried yet, mostly amused, as he watches Cyrus rub his elbow. “Everything okay?”

Cyrus takes his hand away from his elbow. He was sure it was going to bruise, but now he can’t even feel it.

“Everything’s fine,” Cyrus says, and TJ mercifully doesn’t call him out on the way his voice squeaks. 

*

Reed is off the list of people that Cyrus will willingly hang out with, but TJ has other friends that aren’t quite as careless and reckless. Cyrus can hold a grudge like nobody’s business, but he also likes it when things are free of conflict, when people get along and there’s no tension. 

And he likes TJ. He believes in second chances. So he goes to the park with TJ after school one day and sits on the side, watching him and his friends play basketball. 

He can see their swing-set in the distance. A part of him feels stupid, calling it _their_ swing-set, but it basically is. 

“I don't have the coordination for it,” Cyrus says more than once, when TJ asks him to join in. He’s sweaty and a bit gross, prancing about, but he’s also grinning and he’s discarded his usual hoodie. His T-shirt has an adorable cartoon on it. 

“I’ll fall and break my face and then everyone will be sorry,” Cyrus says, clinging desperately to the wall as TJ drifts closer. “I’ll definitely be sorry.”

TJ snorts with laughter, shaking his head. “Fine, fine. You can just sit there and watch me be amazing. I’ll get you out here though, eventually.”

It’s a promise, but Cyrus silently promises himself that it won’t come true. 

“Good luck, not-so-scary basketball guy.” Cyrus shrugs. “Buffy’s been trying for years.”

TJ shrugs back, still grinning. “Buffy doesn’t have my charm.”

He’s so busy being big-headed that he doesn’t notice the basketball that comes flying through the air towards him. 

It smacks TJ right in the face, and Cyrus surges to his feet with a shocked sound as TJ stumbles back. TJ’s friends converge on him, shouting, as he drops to the floor and sits, stumped, with one hand clamped over his nose and his eyes very wide in his head. His friends are babbling, and the one that threw the basketball keeps flapping his hands like a demented bird. Someone sprints off to get a water bottle. Cyrus vaguely thinks, through his panic, that everyone saw the basketball guys like this, nobody at their school would ever have bought into the bad boy bully act. 

“Ow,” TJ says thickly, voice muffled through his palm. 

“Are you alright?” One of his friends shakes TJ by the shoulders, and Cyrus takes a cautious step closer, crouching down until his knees touch the rough ground. There’s a bit of blood under TJ’s nose when he pulls his hand away. 

“I’m fine,” TJ insists, but it sounds more like _I’g fibe._

Cyrus can see the red flush in his cheeks that means he’s starting to get embarrassed, so he leans over to place a hand lightly on TJ’s shoulder, smiling awkwardly, trying to make it comforting and getting nothing but a blank look in response. 

He falters, because that’s a very, very blank look, now that he thinks about it. 

“What?” Cyrus asks, panic returning full-force. “Are you okay? Do you have a concussion?”

“I’m fine,” TJ says, slower this time, and his words come out perfectly clearly. He raises his hand to poke at his nose, wipes the bit of blood away from above his top lip, and stares down at it. 

His friend perks up. “Hey, you sound a bit better! Mike, maybe we don't need that - oh.”

His friends’ eyes travel slowly from Cyrus’s hand, up to his face, and then flicker back to TJ’s remarkably healed nose. 

_“Oh,”_ he says again, glancing at everyone else, clearly confused and a bit panicked himself. 

Cyrus feels his face heat up, and he tears his hand away from TJ’s shoulder, but it’s a bit late for that, really. 

Mike shows up with water, unnecessarily, and neither of them have a chance to say anything before everyone suddenly, loudly, announces their need to be somewhere else. Cyrus can feel his insides shrivel up as they all stumble about, scooping up their jackets and practically teleporting out of the park. He hunches his shoulders in the awkward silence, very aware of TJ’s eyes on him. 

TJ doesn’t say anything until everyone’s gone and they’re alone on the court.

“You’re not surprised,” TJ says. It’s the first thing he says. Cyrus kinda wishes he’d said something else.

“I, uh - I may have had an idea?” Cyrus says, not really taking his eyes away from the ground. “I wasn’t sure though.”

TJ doesn’t respond for a bit. He gets up, though, so Cyrus does too, and he follows TJ when he walks over to the wall Cyrus was sitting on to pick up his hoodie. He looks more like himself with it on. They stand for a bit, the silence awkward and tense in a way it usually isn’t. 

“Wasn’t sure if it was right, or wasn’t sure about me?” TJ finally asks. 

Cyrus startles, looking up at him. He meets TJ’s eyes, finally, and he can see that he looks a bit grim and wary, almost like he’s braced for rejection. Which is ridiculous. But also kind of understandable. 

“I didn't tell you because I only found out recently, and I didn't know for sure if that was what it was,” Cyrus says. “I also didn't know how you’d react, if it was true and I told you.”

“You think I’d hurt you?” TJ looks even more upset at this than he did earlier, and Cyrus instantly feels ant-sized and stepped-on.

“No,” Cyrus insists, stepping a bit closer. 

"If it's because you're a boy, I don't care about that," TJ says, still looking upset and trying to hide it. It makes Cyrus's insides do a squirmy, guilty dance, even though he knows it's _okay_ that he wasn't sure, because nobody's ever sure. 

"I know, I swear." Cyrus bites his lip. "I just didn't want you to be upset or confused or…”

“Or?” TJ arches an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an answer. 

“Or disappointed,” Cyrus admits, blurting it out before he can lose his nerve. “I mean, you’re cool and you play basketball and ride motorbikes. You’re all nice, now, too, and you’re funny and confident. I’m kind of the opposite of all that. I couldn’t even do a roly-poly until I met you.”

He lets his voice trail off. TJ keeps watching him with something close to amazement. Baffled amazement.

Cyrus eyes him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m worried,” TJ says. “I’m worried that maybe you took a basketball to the head when nobody was looking, for you to think all of that stuff. Yeah, you’re a bit judgey and you couldn’t do a roly-poly, but you also give people second chances and you can do a roly-poly now. You do the right thing every time. Cyrus, I couldn’t even apologise before I met you.”

“Yes you could,” Cyrus counters, but TJ cuts him off by stepping even closer, so they’re face-to-face, their toes touching. 

“Yeah, I could,” TJ says. “But I never did. I wouldn’t apologise because I didn't think I was wrong, or I didn't care if I was. But then I met you, and I started thinking more. You’re very good at showing people that they’re more than what they are on the surface.”

“I am?” 

“Yep,” TJ says. “You’re also cute. And _oblivious,_ because you didn't realise I liked you since I first saw you, and I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out since I figured it all out.”

Cyrus sucks in a breath. “Yeah? Well you’re oblivious too. You didn't realise I wanted to kiss you after you’d apologised properly.”

TJ’s mouth twitches. He doesn’t look unaffected, exactly, but mostly he looks happy, a bit relieved, kind of like he can’t believe it but like he’s glad it’s happening anyway. Cyrus can relate, although it’s hard to tell exactly how he’s feeling, what with all the frogs jumping round in his stomach and the butterflies in his throat. 

“I guess we’re both idiots then,” TJ offers. He looks a bit nervous now, as he reaches over and takes Cyrus’s hand. It’s not a small thing. They’ve been working up to it, it feels like, and every time Cyrus has felt their fingers brush as they’ve walked from place to place he’s wanted to go for it. 

Now that it’s here, it feels big. Impossibly big, to hold another boy's hand in the park, with their swing-set not too far from them.

“You know what else we are?” Cyrus asks, and he grins when TJ tips his head questioningly. “Soulmates.”

TJ looks a bit like he’s lost his breath, this time. He grips Cyrus’s hand a bit tighter. 

“Soulmates,” he repeats, his voice softer than anything Cyrus has ever heard from him before. He starts to lean in, maybe for a hug, or just to be close, Cyrus doesn't know, but he's excited to find out. Which is, of course, why he sabotages his own moment.

“One thing,” Cyrus says. “If we have to have any more big, heartfelt reveals, can I request that we have them without bleeding or drama in general? It’s not good for my heart.”

TJ starts laughing, and he keeps laughing as he tugs Cyrus closer by their joined hands, and all the little aches melt away.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, thank you very much! <3 Let me know what you thought! <3


End file.
